


Somebody Loved

by beforeyouspeak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforeyouspeak/pseuds/beforeyouspeak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the Final Battle Hermione faces one of her greatest fears. In a moment of utter terror she unintentionally transports herself to a familiar place. Who finds her? And can they save each other? Hermione/Narcissa</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione had intentionally not spent time thinking about what the Final Battle would be like. She could feel adrenaline in every cell of her body. She was exhausted and couldn’t stop coughing. Her lungs were filled with the stench of smoke and corpses. And yet, she pushed on. She had parted ways with both Harry and Ron a while back. She only had a fuzzy sense of time, but she carried a sense of hope. They were down to just Voldemort and the snake. They had overcome so many… challenges that this seemed doable. Before stepping back into the Great Hall, she took two deep breaths and stretched out her wand arm getting ready for the fire fight she knew to be raging inside.

In the room, it was as bad as she had imagined and perhaps then some. The Death Eaters for their ragged appearances were rather good duelists. As she watched Bellatrix Lestrange easily cut down a young student, she knew that she had to step in. Fortunately for her a rather brash redhead had the same thought at the same moment. Together they delivered a barrage of what they thought were impressive offensive spells. Disappointingly the dark witch batted them away as though they were nothing. The menacing smile with which they were dispatched caused a painful shudder to travel down the length of Hermione’s spine. She felt panic rising through her body and found that her mind was blank. She could not think of a single defensive spell. She blinked trying to clear her mind. In the fraction of a second that her eyes were closed, she was transported back in her mind to the floor of Malfoy Manor. The demonic witch was leaned over her cackling evilly and inflicting pain. It was Hermione’s own personal hell. She snapped her eyes open, but could not escape the nightmare. Over the sound of her own memories, she faintly heard the words Avada Kedavra. The irony of the fact that she survived torture by his most loyal follower to escape only to die by the witch’s wand in the end did not escape her. She closed her eyes accepting her fate, sorry that her last moments were consumed by the memory of when Mudblood was brutally carved into her arm.

She was jolted from her self pity by a hard landing. She opened her eyes, but could see nothing in the absolute darkness of wherever she was. Feeling utterly alone, she whimpered in a mixture of pain and desperation.

* * *

 

Narcissa Malfoy, though she had every intention of once again becoming Black, had finally arrived home to the Manor with her son in tow. It had been a trying few years since the Dark Lord had come back from the dead. And then her sister returned. An additional trial. There was a small piece of familial love that could never entirely be erased from her heart, but the woman was completely unhinged. She was unruly before prison, but afterwards it was clear that her mind was irreparably damaged. Bellatrix was unreasonably cruel and impossible to reign in. The blonde knew she would cry at her sister’s grave when it was all said and done. She would even feel a touch of guilt.

The price of her own freedom and that of her only son’s was her worthless husband and her deranged sister. In what she would describe as true Slytherin fashion, she had struck a last minute deal with Kingsley, who would any minute now be declared the interim Minister of Magic. After the escape of the teens from Malfoy Manor, extreme chaos broke out. Enough that she could get a message to him requesting a parlay. He agreed and they met high in the hills of Scotland. In exchange for being considered a member of the light, she told him everything she knew that was being planned and agreed to do anything in her power to keep the three teens alive. After all, though her son was a bully, he hadn’t managed to kill anyone. Nor would he, if she had anything to do with it.

Fortune had shone brightly on her since then. Her intelligence led to the Order easily breaching the walls of the castle to assist in the battle. And she had single handedly saved the Potter boy and gotten away with it scot-free. Then she even found her son safe and largely unharmed. So at the door of the castle, she left her husband, only in name, in the capable hands of an auror. Without so much as a glance back, she and Draco walked away from it all. When the dust cleared and after the Order triumphed, the two would be presented as spies for the light and cleared of all charges. They would be required to testify against Lucius and Bellatrix provided they both survived. The blonde certainly would. It did seem to be his most prominent skill. However, he would never leave the walls of the magical prison. She suspected she would never be compelled to speak a word publically against her sister. The Death Eater had been captured once, she would die before going back to Azkaban. She and Draco would inherit the entirety of the Malfoy, Black and Lestrange estates, Kingsley would ensure it. She hoped they would have the ability to start over.

She carefully moved her son up the stairs toward his childhood room. She took his coat and encouraged him into a shower. She summoned an elf to bring a sleeping potion. She knew he probably ought to eat, but sleep would do wonders for stabilizing him. He could eat in the morning. After only a few minutes, he emerged again dressed in silk. Compliantly if not emptily he took the potion and laid in the bed. He allowed his mother to soothingly stroke his hair as he fell asleep. It was familiar and safe.

After warding the room to alert her if he woke, she set off for her own chambers to do much the same. She was unwillingly pulled from her thoughts by a loud crash downstairs. She suddenly missed the evil hordes of fighters that kept her from raising her wand with frequency. But her exterior wards hadn’t gone off. If they had the elves still in the house were incredibly loyal to her, as she had always treated them more kindly than the rest, would have immediately come to her assistance. She thought of calling them, but it seemed silly over just a noise. She walked down the grand staircase magically lighting torches as she went. The house seemed emptier and more silent than ever before. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she turned towards a familiar room. It served as a headquarter of sorts for a time and then as a torture chamber. She had hoped not to venture back into this part of the house. She had every intention of tearing it down and rebuilding, or at the very least gutting it. There was no amount of paint that could remove such horrors from its walls.

Cautiously she opened the door, listening for any trace of an intruder. She summoned a lumos and then lit the torches of the large empty room. On the farthest side she saw a crumpled body in a sickeningly familiar position. Slowly the blonde walked towards the girl saying,

“Miss Granger. How in Merlin’s name did you get here?”

At the sound of the cold tone of her voice, the dirty body attempted to put distance between them though progress was halted by a strangled cry of pain.

In a moment of unusual sympathy not even she understood, Narcissa began again more gently.

“Are you alright?”

The curled up small form had begun convulsing in fear. She could hear there were words being said, but delivered at such a rapid pace and with uneven breathing that she struggled to understand the meaning. The older witch moved slowly as to not add to the fear and leaned close to the girl. The speech still wasn't entirely clear, but she distinctly heard,

“Please. Please save me. She is going to get me. It hurts so much.”

Even someone daft would be able to reason that the terrified young woman was referring to Bellatrix, who had tortured her mere days ago in this very location. The babbling morphed into incoherent sobs rendering it obvious to Narcissa that the physical location was hindering the ability to communicate. Unable to think of anything else, she gently took the girl’s arm. Hazel eyes opened, as if they had just seen her for the first time.

“Trust me,” the blonde whispered to keep her voice from breaking. She closed her own eyes and apperated them into her chambers. She landed the injured girl on the bed. For the first time since the blue eyes caught sight of her, Hermione calmed a fraction though the tears did not stop streaming down her face.

“Lay still. I’m just going to check your wounds. I’m a trained healer,” Narcissa said in a voice so like the one she had used to soothe her son a few minute before. With a gentle flick of her wand, it was clear that the girl had a broken leg likely from the fall out of apparition. There were a few other small injuries likely from the battle, but in time they would heal naturally. More concerning was the malnutrition and exhaustion from the months on the run. The blonde placed a soothing hand on her shoulder and snapped the fingers on her other hand. Immediately a female elf appeared.

“Please bring me a pain potion and a sleeping potion.” The small elf nodded and disappeared again.

The blonde crouched by the bed so that they would be at eye level.

“You’ve hurt your leg badly. I need to repair it now or you may have permanent damage. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Hermione whispered through the tears.

“Good. Once you’ve had the potion, I will cast the spell. I am much better at it than Lockhart was, so please don’t worry.”

The young woman raised an eyebrow at the comment.

Narcissa chuckled. “Yes, Draco told me about that little adventure. We however will not have a repeat this evening. I am not so incompetent.”

“Why?”

“Why what exactly? I can’t imagine you are doubting my skill.”

Hermione blushed at the haughty tone. She found that she liked the confidence in the woman more than she could explain. “Why are you helping me?”

The blonde smiled internally at the softer tone of the girl. “I suppose word hasn’t spread yet. I’ve been acting on the Order’s behalf.”

“Harry told me that you saved him. He couldn’t imagine why.”

“It's complicated, Miss Granger.”

“Hermione, please. And I don’t mean to pry, I am just rather at your mercy.”

“So you are,” she replied raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

The elf popped back into the room with two small vials. She handed them over to the blonde with a smile.

“In about 30 minutes, please bring us a light dinner, please.” The blue eyes turned back to the young witch. “Drink this. It's a simple pain potion. It will make it possible for me to heal the bone without making you pass out.”

Hermione took the bottle and drank it quickly, attempting not to taste it. She sighed as she felt it working through her body. Finally her muscles relaxed. They had been clenched in pain for hours. She watched as Narcissa magically cut off the pant leg and felt nausea rising at the sight of the damage.

“Look up at the ceiling, Hermione. This isn’t something you want to see.”

The Gryffindor looked at her with fair amount of defiance.

“Do as I ask and I will explain to you my situation.”

The hazel eyes searched her face for deception, but eventually gave into the request.

“Good girl,” she whispered, gently touching the damaged limb to do a final evaluation. “I never wanted to be a part of this war. Lucius dragged us into it. And I never had a choice about marrying him. I attempted to keep my family as far out of it as possible, but it steadily spiraled out of control.” She prepared to do the spell, watching the rise and fall of the young witch’s chest. “It had been coming for a long time, but when… you were last in this house I could take no more. I approached Kingsley and offered him the type of information that could turn the tides. He accepted and offered protection for myself and Draco in return. I am well aware that we have reparations yet to pay, but we had to begin somewhere.”

“What information did you give?”

While the young witch was speaking, Narcissa executed the spell healing the bone. Hermione was so distracted that she didn’t notice it was happening and could feel nothing through the potions she had consumed.

“What the Dark Lord was planning and how to intervene. I also agreed to do anything I could to save the three of you, should a situation arise. I was presented with the opportunity in the forest and I took it. It doesn’t make up for the things I’ve witnessed and not stopped leading up to this, but that is work for another day.”

Hermione nodded at the vague apology. It was more than she had ever expected.

“I’ve completed the spell.”

Before Narcissa could complete her thought, Hermione shot up. The blonde placed a firm hand on her shoulder pushing her back.

“I won’t have you ruining my hard work. It was not a simple spell. You need to rest and let your body heal.”

“You don’t understand,” she said in a panic. “I have to get back.”

“What I understand is that you can’t do anything to help in this state. I will send my patronus to Kingsley telling him you are safe and in good care.”

“But Harry and Ron.”

“Are in good hands,” the blonde continued. “There are plans in place to care for them. There will be such chaos there that you would be more of a hinderance than a help. Stay here tonight. Bathe, eat and tomorrow I promise to take you back to the castle.”

“I will only agree if you let me watch you cast the patronus.”

“Very well,” the blonde agreed. She closed her eyes and muttered the word. A glowing otter emerged from the tip of her wand. “Find Kingsley and tell him that I have Hermione Granger safe and recovering at Malfoy Manor. If he needs us, he only has to send word. Go quickly.”

The young witch sat stunned with her mouth hanging open.

“Contrary to some of the rumors, Hermione, I am not all bad. I never lost the ability to cast a patronus after I learned.”

“So I've been gathering. I’ll keep an open mind.”

“Thank you. It's more than I deserve. Come now. You are in desperate need of a bath.”

“Did you just tease me, Madame Malfoy?” Hermione asked lightly, hoping to steer away from emotionally charged conversations. If she was going to be held here overnight, it would do no good to be unpleasant. After all, the blonde helped turn the tide and Kingsley trusted her.

“I did, Miss Granger. I am going to cast a feather-light charm on your injured leg, because you will need to hold it up. I will help you to the bathroom.”

Gingerly she helped the young girl lift herself off the bed ensuring she didn’t put weight on the newly healed leg.

“Why are you being so kind to me? Surely an elf could tend to me.”

Narcissa turned her head slowly to look into the piercing eyes still attempting to evaluate her motivations. They were so close that they were practically nose to nose. The blonde found the attitude of the witch electrifying. She smiled softly. “No doubt they could. Those who stayed are very loyal to me. However, from the looks of you it has been some time since anyone has shown you kindness, which is something I am rather familiar with. This is what I have to offer.”

It was so quiet that if the blonde didn’t have attuned hearing that she would have missed the whispered words of thanks. Even said so quietly, there was an underlying sincerity that touched her in ways she hadn’t expected. The gasp as they cross the threshold to the bathroom is far louder and Narcissa chuckles in earnest.

“Did you expect any less?”

“No,” Hermione breathed out. “Unfortunately, I am beginning to believe that Draco had reasons for his attitude.”

“Ah, well my son is… complex. I heard enough about you though. Had certain things been different, I think he would have rather liked to date you.”

The blonde sat her down gently on the edge of the bathing pool and the girl descended into giggles.

“I cannot believe I missed the signs. How could I have been so dumb? School yard flirting.” She waved a hand emphatically. “It wouldn’t have mattered on my end. Afraid he is isn’t my type.”

Narcissa raised her eyebrow. It was entirely out of character for the young witch to keep speaking, but in her exhaustion she couldn’t stop.

“I prefer the fairer sex. Not that Draco isn’t an attractive man. I mean…. I’ve never really thought about it honestly…”

The older witch silenced her with a gentle hand cupping her jaw. “We are much more open about such things in the older magical circles. You will never face judgement from me.”

The hazel eyes blinked trying to process the statement, but the older witch already turned away. The pool behind her was filled with water and bubbles.

“The water should be warm enough to be comfortable, but it cannot be hot. That would be bad for the swelling. Do you think you can manage to get in and out by yourself?”

“I think so.”

“Don’t put any weight on it. Just say my name when you are done. I will set a ward for it. I will have some suitable clothing brought for you.”

Without so much as looking back, Narcissa strode out of the room. Hermione started to pull the filthy cloth from her body. She could barely imagine what they looked like originally. She contemplated how oddly the day had turned out. But the one thing she had learned living in the magical world was that almost anything could happen. She found she was surprisingly content to be in the care of the blonde. There was something about her manner that was disarmingly charming. The youngest Black sister was nothing like what she had imagined. She couldn’t even justify it to herself, but for the first time in many months she felt safe.

With a soft pop clothing appeared folded in a chair near where she sat. The sudden movement caused her to jolt and nearly fall into the water. She slipped into the suds careful of her leg. As promised, the water was pleasant enough to bathe in. It was particularly luxurious in light of the months of bathing in streams. She washed as thoroughly, but as quickly as she could. There was promise of food and a warm bed, and news. Maneuvering out of the water was tricky, but she managed to only bump her leg uncomfortably a few times. She suppressed the urge to call out, not wanting to trip the wards. After drying, she summoned the clothes left for her into her hands. She was surprised to find that they were soft cotton pajamas. Who knew even pureblood goddesses like Narcissa Malfoy enjoyed comfortable clothing. They fit nicely and when she felt suitably clothed, she looked around the empty room. Hermione hoped she might be able to leave the room under her own power, but just the small bumps had been excruciating.

“Narcissa?”

After a moment a polite knock the bathroom door opened slowly and a blonde head appeared.

“Ready for something to eat?”

“That would be lovely. Thank you.”

“Let's get you up then.” The blonde gently helped her stand with an arm solidly around her waist.

In the quietness of the walk, the young witch was acutely aware of the heat coming from the other witch’s touch. And how much she didn’t want it to leave.

“You are going to back to the bed. I want the injury to remain elevated,” Narcissa said without any question in her tone.

Once Hermione was settled comfortably propped up against pillows, the blonde set a tray on her lap. The shepherd's pie scent reached her nose and she found it impossible to think of anything else. She ate voraciously. A soft hand touched her wrist.

“Slowly, Hermione. Don’t upset your stomach. There will be plenty more. Here,” she said attempting to distract her. “I thought you would want to read this instead of being told. It arrived while you were bathing.” She handed over a copy of the Daily Prophet.

The young witch took it quickly, attempting to read it all at once. She took in the first page quickly and then flipped quickly to the back. She tried to wipe the tears away without the blonde seeing. Her failure was evident when the tray disappeared and the bed depressed beside her. Arms encircled her. Hermione clung to the fabric of the witch’s dress as though the last vestige of comfort might slip away if her hands loosened. She buried her face against a cool neck as sobs wracked her body. Narcissa cooed soothingly, moving her fingers through the still wet hair.

“It's over. And we won.Everything you said was true. They even recognized your contribution on the front page,” the young witch said as her tears subsided. She had yet to move from the warm embrace.

“I have no desire to lie to you.”

“Why is that?”

“I… I don’t know. I’ve lived deceiving everyone. It's exhausting. And you. You look at me differently. You see me without judgement, which I know I don’t deserve.”

“I’m no innocent either, Narcissa,” she mumbled against a pale collarbone. “I’ve done things during this war that I can never forgive myself for.”

“What could you have possibly done?”

“Rumors say that you are one of the most skilled legilimens in Great Britain.”

“I am,” the blonde responded slowly.

“Just look please. I can’t… I don’t talk about it. This is easier.” The young witch closed her eyes and waited for the uncomfortable sensation she had read about. It didn’t come, but she became aware of a warm soothing presence soaking into her consciousness. She saw herself in her own memories approaching her parents and erasing herself from their memories.Her heart clenched at the sight. The image shifted in a swirl of color. She was now crying in Harry’s arms. It was the day they got news that even in Australia her parents were ruthlessly hunted down and killed. She felt as Narcissa slowly withdrew from her mind.

A soothing hand brushed away the lone tear running down her cheek and held her still as a kiss was placed on her forehead.

“You had no way of knowing, Hermione. You did the most sensible thing you could think of. I am so very sorry for your loss.”

"As I am sorry for yours," she said in a quiet voice.

"Thank you. You are kind. I should let you sleep. It's been a long day." She stood to get off the bed only to be stopped by a hand.

"Narcissa, please don't leave. I don't want to be alone. I know it's an unusual request." Her voice was quiet and shaking from both emotion and anxiety.

"It's quite alright. I would rather not sleep alone either. Let's get you under the covers," the blonde answered sweetly. The older woman gingerly lifted the injured leg to move the blankets and replace them.

"I might not be a good bed mate. I'm not sure if I will be able to fall asleep. We did shifts when we were on the run and mine was always very late."

"How about a bit of a sleeping draught, but not so much that you can't be woken. And someone to keep you safe."

"You saw that part of my thoughts too?" she asked with a touch of fear in her tone.

"I did though I was not looking for it."

"And yet you will share a bed with me?"

The blonde paused her movement to address the question. "I did not say that I found them distasteful."

The young witch sat back up to launch into a speech. One steady hand caught her shoulder and a single finger pressed into her lips.

"Hush now. This isn't the time for such decisions. Drink half of this. We will spend some time getting to know one another."

Hermione took the vial in her hand. "That's not exactly the reaction I was expecting."

"It's nice to have the ability to surprise someone. Drink. I will be back in a moment."

Waiting on Narcissa, the young witch snuggled further into the covers. She wasn’t sure if it was the comparison to the tent or reality, but it felt like it was the softest bed she’d ever been in. She was so engrossed in the evaluation of her physical location that she didn’t hear the other witch reenter the room.

“I am glad that you find my bed so comfortable. I should hope it is more comfortable than some tent. I didn’t mean to snoop, but you were thinking so loudly. I could hear it through the door.”

“It's alright,” the young woman said. “As tired as I am, I could have been speaking out loud.” She felt the bed depress behind her and the warmth of another body. She found it incredibly tempting to be closer to it. “When you found me injured you brought me to your room?”

“You needed safety. It is safe here.”

“Thank you.” Hermione gasped when slender fingers intertwined with her own.

“Sleep,” Narcissa whispered in her ear, soothingly petting her face and hair rhythmically.

“But… I”

“Tomorrow, we will talk. I swear it.”


	2. Chapter 2

The first inkling of dawn roused Hermione from a peacefully dream free sleep. The lingering effects of the potion and the softness of the bed tempted her to stay where she was. When she did open her eyes it took her mind several seconds to process the bright blonde hair on the pillow next to her and the securely possessive arm around her waist. Her first reaction was to jump out of the bed and attempt to gather her thoughts. As though reading her mind, which was entirely possible, the arm tightened gently.

“Get up if you must, but go carefully. You can walk on your leg, but it will still hurt some,” a sleep heavy voice said. “Of course you could also stay here for a few more hours. It's quite comfortable.”

The young witch paused in the middle of her near freakout to stare incredulously at the warm body next to her. She gently squeezed the hand resting against her hip, resisting the desire to nuzzle against the pale neck in front of her.

“I just need a bit of space to think.”

“I can’t say I am suprised. You know where the bathroom is. I suspect you would like to go down to the kitchen yourself.” Narcissa snapped her fingers causing an elf to appear. “Would you please take our guest downstairs with you. She would like breakfast and a bit of quiet.”

“Yes, Mistress. To the sunroom?” The question was squeaked back at her.

“That will do nicely, thank you.” The blonde turned back to the young woman sitting on the edge of her bed. “I need to go tend to Draco. We will come downstairs in a bit. Take your time downstairs. If you need me simply ask one of the elves. They will help you find me.”

Hermione nodded mutely not knowing how to respond. She didn’t turn around to look at the bright blue eyes she knew would be carefully evaluating her. She couldn’t bear the scrutiny this morning. Her instincts made her want to run directly into the arms of the beautiful witch in hopes of understanding and security. But it was that very desire that terrified her. Her feet hit the cool wood beneath her feet causing her to gasp. The small elf standing at her side shook his head and snapped his fingers. Warm slippers appeared on her feet instantaneously. She slowly rose to her feet testing the strength of her leg. Narcissa was right about the pain. There was considerable stiffness, but she found she could put weight on it. She shuffled to the door happy to be under her own power. She could feel eyes on her back, but dared not look back. She feared that everything she felt might be visible in her face.

The elf gently took her hand leading her through the hallways and down the stairs. They didn’t speak, but from time to time the elf looked back at her smiling brightly as though he knew everything going through her head. She was pleasantly surprised when their journey through the house ended in a bright kitchen. She could hardly believe that this was Malfoy Manor. She presumed that there were no bright pleasant rooms in the location that bred such gloom throughout the war.

“Miss would like tea,” the elf said finally breaking their silence.

“I can make it myself.”

“No no. Hokey will make. Miss needs rest. Yesterday was bad.”

“You don’t have to serve me.”

“Miss is right. Hokey does not have to, but wants to. Mistress wants Miss to be comfortable and cared for.”

“I’m not used to letting others care for me.”

“Hokey knows,” the elf answers certainly, putting a kettle magically on a burner.

“Can everyone see how bloody tired and broken I am?” She immediately regretted the frustrated tone, but the elf seemed undeterred.

“Hokey isn’t everyone. Hokey thinks that those who care about you can see it.”

“Why do you care? I’m not a pureblood.”

“Hokey serves Mistress Malfoy. She doesn’t care about such things.”

“I am a bit speechless. I really thought that…. well. I’ve been mistaken about so many things about her.”

“Don’t feel bad, Miss. There are not many that know Mistress well. Hokey thinks that she does not hold this against you.”

“Shit. This is all such a mess.”

“The terrible dark man is gone. The mess is less,” the elf said turning away to finish making tea.

After a few minutes of silence a platter of tea and pastries were hovered in front of her.

“Hokey will take you to the sunroom now, Miss.”

Hermione followed quietly attempting to take in the insanity that was the world she woke up in. She was ushered into a large comfortable chair with an ottoman to prop her feet on. The tray of tea and breakfast was placed on a small table at her elbow. Hokey smiled warmly and disappeared with a small pop. She took a hot cup of tea in both her hands and brought it to her nose. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. It was the single most comforting smell she knew. Breathing out again she opened her eyes looking out onto the grounds of the large house. Sitting where she was felt incredibly surreal. A woman until 12 hours ago she genuinely believed to be her enemy, had healed her body and soothed her soul without expecting anything in return. Every movement and look from the blonde had been laced with unnerving kindness and generosity.

Her months on the run had her looking for the catch. The patronus and Prophet were compelling evidence that it was no trick. But the revelation that Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were supporters of the Order would shock and anger many. The entire family had been the poster child for pureblooded hatred and bigotry. And yet, Hermione saw no evidence of such beliefs in the sleepy affectionate voice she heard first thing in the morning. In her time within the Manor not a single derogatory word had been spoken towards her or anyone in her presence. Even the elves were spoken to with respect. It hardly seemed like the same place Bellatrix had so abused her.

She could accept that she had been wrong about Narcissa. After all she had few interactions with her before yesterday and knew her only by reputation. One thing Hermione learned being one of Harry’s closest friends was that reputations rarely matched the person underneath. What had the young witch up so early in the morning was how she felt towards the blonde. In her state of exhaustion she unintentionally allowed the older woman to see her blossoming attraction to the woman. Though it wasn’t widely known, Hermione could not deny her desire for beautiful witches. And she had always been drawn to powerful older women. There was something about the way they carried themselves. From the way they moved, to how they constructed sentences, to how they made others around them behave. Hermione found it simply delectable.

But she had not seen this coming. She hardly noticed the blonde before. She knew the woman had been present when the Golden Trio was captive within the walls in which she currently sat, but they hadn’t interacted. And now, she couldn’t seem to shake the woman from her thoughts. She still felt the lingering soft touches on her skin. And she desired to be touched again. Confusingly it seemed that the blonde shared her desires. The older woman hadn’t asked for more than Hermione offered, even insisting that no further progress was made until they were rested and rational. Narcissa had been positively chivalrous. It only fueled Hermione’s interest.

There were so many reasons why the Gryffindor shouldn’t want to pursue the blonde. There was a significant age difference, a socioeconomic difference, cultural difference, and not to mention the amount of press any relationship would no doubt get. And yet… her instincts were screaming to see what this was. Parts of her that she rarely listened to were begging that she ignored these challenges. Even more surprisingly, she wanted to listen. Her own rationality had served her so well these past few months, but it hadn’t brought her any happiness. And this had the potential for so much more than she was ready to admit. A soothing voice broke the silence in which she was sitting.

“Hermione, may we join you?”

The brunette spun to see two identical blonde heads with slightly nervous looks on their faces. “Yes, of course. The pastries are wonderful. And it is your home, not mine.”

“True, but it we are the ones intruding on your morning,” Narcissa said gently.

Hermione suppressed the urge to giggle, opting to smile a little instead. She was having a pajama party with Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. It was perfectly ridiculous. “I don’t mind. There is only so much quiet contemplation that is healthy after everything.”

Narcissa sat in the chair closest to the young witch and Draco next to his mother. Hokey came with them delivering another pot of tea and a larger serving of breakfast.

“Refill, Granger?” the blonde wizard said quietly without looking up.

“Please.” She paused to study him. He was nothing like the arrogant young man she knew last year. He was sullen and broken. “Thank you, Draco.”

At the sound of his name he looked up. Surprise at the kindness painted across his face.

“And I think in light of everything, you could try calling me Hermione.”

He smiled slightly and nodded in agreement while serving his mother.

“This is quite the situation, isn’t it,” Hermione asked breaking the slightly awkward silence.

“I dare say, none of us ever imagined we would be doing this,” Draco added with a smirk.

“No. It isn’t. However, we must move forward,” Narcissa said with a hint of accusation in her voice.

“I didn’t say it was unpleasant, mother. I am not my father. I agree with this path,” he said with certainty that made him look a shade of his former self.

Hermione smiled to herself while drinking her tea.

“Are you grinning beneath that tea cup, Miss Granger?” the blonde witch said in a light tone.

“I am. This situation is so far outside of anything I ever considered, yet here we are. And it's nice to see blondie acting a bit more like himself.”

“So long as you don’t feel compelled to punch me again, I will take that as a compliment.”

She put up a hand as if in surrender. “I have no such intention. I could do with a lot less fighting.”

There was a long pause. Even the subtle reminder that they had been on opposite sides of the war stopped them all in their tracks. After a few moments, the wizard spoke quietly.

“Do you really think it is over this time, Mum?”

“It feels different. And no one attempted to come back here last night, which is a very good sign it is. The Dark… Voldemort,” she said in a wavering voice, “must have fallen or we would have been over run. And the Prophet seemed quite clear.”

“Do you think the wizarding world can put this behind it and move forward?” Hermione asked.

“I hope so. This has been no way to live these past few decades. It has been miserable for so many. For some of us, integrating back into society will be challenging. But in time and with a bit of forgiveness, I have hope.”

“I know what it is like to be discriminated against,” Hermione said eyes glued firmly on the floor. She didn’t want their pity or remorse. “You can count on me to stand with you. It is incredibly brave to break away from your family and everything that is familiar to stand up for those who could not stand up for themselves. It doesn’t erase the past, but you are both deserving of the opportunity to make it right.” She finally looked up to meet Narcissa’s gaze. The blue eyes were misty and a small smile pulled at the corner of her lips. Draco stared out the window clearly emotional. “I’m sorry,” she continued, “if I overstepped my bounds. Narcissa, I am extremely grateful for your assistance last night. I should go.”

Hermione could think of nothing but retreating from the feeling of not being wanted where she was. She nearly managed to get to her feet before a hand rested on her shoulder.

“We will go together. There is nothing that needs to be done here that cannot wait. Our magical abilities will be needed to help at Hogwarts. We will meet back here in 30 minutes.”

Draco stood and nodded. He strode from the room with purpose. Hermione noted that he somehow seemed more alive than he had a few minutes prior.

“Come, Hermione. I have some clothing I think will suit you for the day.” Narcissa reached out a hand to help her up.

The young witch took it hesitantly, but couldn’t resist the temptation in the end. Once on her feet, she almost didn’t release the hand, enjoying the warmth of the fingers tangled in her own. Her pause was rewarded with a gentle smile from the blonde.

“How is your leg feeling?”

“It's sore and a bit stiff, but I can walk. I am greatly indebted to you.”

“You owe me nothing, Hermione. I could spend the rest of my life attempting to make up for not protecting you from my sister and I would not come anywhere close.”

“Rationally, I am beginning to understand the situation you were in. And I obviously survived it. I think…” She faltered slightly at the memory. “I think that it will be a defining moment that ties us together for the rest of our lives. It is my hope that we can make something positive out of it.”

“Why are you giving me a chance? You know that others will not understand, at least not at first. They will say terrible things about us both. They will accuse me of using magic to influence you. Perhaps even of kidnapping you.”

“It won’t be the first time that rumors have been spread about me. I have no intention of letting fear run my life. I never have before.”

“I’ve known nothing but giving into fear.” The blonde sounded thoroughly defeated.

“Then I will have to show you how to be a Gryffindor. A bit of brashness would wear well on you.”

The blonde turned to look at her raising a sculpted eyebrow. “And you could do with a bit of Slytherin. You have to take your own well being into consideration.”

Hermione mumbled in response.

“Sorry,” Narcissa said touching her wrist lightly. “I couldn’t hear that.”

“I’m not all that important, really.”

“Then we disagree. You are incredibly important. Perhaps you have something to learn from me after all,” the blonde said opening the door to her room. “Let's see if we can find something suitable for you to wear.”

Narcissa strode across the room and waved her wand. One of the walls dissolved into a closet that seemed the size of her parents’ house. Hermione gasped loudly.

“We ought to be able to find something,” the blonde commented knowing what the young witch had to be thinking. “Start with these.” She handed over a decidedly lacy set of underthings. She smiled when Hermione’s jaw dropped open.

“They are new. And you can transfigure them into whatever style you prefer,” she continued with a chuckle.

“Oh no,” Hermione said with an edge of defiance in her voice. “I will wear them just like this.”

“Is this an attempt to distract me today?”

“Is this your way of telling me you find me distracting,” she fired back playfully. “And if I was, I would let you see what they look like on me. That would be distracting.”

It was Narcissa’s turn to stare openly at the young witch. She had not anticipated the girl being so openly flirtatious. It was far outside of anything Narcissa ever experienced. She could think of nothing appropriate to say in response, so she turned back to the clothes magically pulling a few items to her.

“These should do nicely, I think. Not quite the same as you are used to wearing, but it should work.”

She handed over a stack of clothes: black form fitting pants, a light colored fitted shirt, a robe, and knee high soft leather boots. Hermione took them and went to dress. Though she was quick, when she returned, the blonde was already dressed and ready to go. The woman was beautiful inspite of the exhaustion that seemed to radiate off of her. As she approached, Narcissa got to her feet. The young witch wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around the trim waist and bury her head in the crook of Narcissa’s neck, but couldn’t think of a justifiable reason for her actions. She knew that she had been caught when a decidedly mischievous look crossed the blonde’s face. With a single bent finger, the blonde beckoned her forward. Slender hands grasped her shoulders and pulled her into a warm embrace. She sighed into the hug, relaxing into the surprisingly strong arms.

“Today is going to be just fine,” Narcissa whispered against her hair. “We will get through it together, ok?”

“Ok,” she mumbled against the soft neck. “Thank you. I promise I won’t let anyone do anything to either of you.”

“That I believe. I have seen you with a wand in your hand. I would not challenge you.”


	3. Chapter 3

The lingering embrace eased back slowly, though Hermione struggled to want to separate. When she finally opened her eyes, she was greeted with a knowing smirk. He winked, but remained silent, for which she was grateful. He seemed aware of what was growing between the two witches. Not attempting to hide it from him would be convenient, but she wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet. It would certainly be a conversation for another day. She could feel Narcissa’s interested appraisal of her reaction. She glanced sideways quickly just long enough to catch an affectionately nervous look.

“Are we ready to go,” the wizard asked quietly.

“Yes. I believe we are. We should apparate from here. I am not sure that the floo network will have been repaired yet,” the blonde witch responded.

Hermione immediately tensed. It had been so long since she lost all control of her magic like she had the day before. And she had no desire to have a repeat performance.

“Hermione, if you wouldn’t mind accompanying me. I believe we will be better received if you are there.”

“Of course,” the young witch said pulling her wand from the waistband of her pants. She would be ready to cast any needed protection spells as soon as they landed. She stepped closer to Narcissa and slipped her arm into the blonde's. As always the contact was warmly seductive, threatening to drown out any rationale. She closed her eyes, consciously putting all of her trust in the woman next to her. She felt the familiar pull at the back of her bellybutton and wave of nausea. They landed smoothly and nearly silently. Hermione couldn’t help but note how powerful and talented Narcissa truly was. Before she could decide whether or not she was going to comment on it, spells were being fired.

“What the bloody hell did you do to her, you fucking snake?”

Hermione immediately cast a powerful protego blowing the youngest Weasley back a few feet.

“Ginny. Don’t,” Hermione said firmly.

“What did you use? Imperio? You will be in Azkaban before lunch,” the young witch continued to threaten.

“Ginny Weasley! I am not under any curse. Look at my eyes. Do I look like I am under imperio?”

The redhead approached her and took her face in her hands, evaluating closely. Narcissa forced her body to stay relaxed. Unexpectedly she hated another woman’s hands on Hermione, but at this moment it would make life much harder to do anything about it.

“No. You don’t. In that case, what the bloody hell are you thinking? You do know who that is right?”

“Yes, Gin. I am aware that I just arrived at Hogwarts quite literally on the arm of Narcissa Malfoy.”

“Black,” the blonde responded automatically. “I turned my soon to be ex-husband over to the authorities yesterday. I will have a divorce by the end of the week.”

Hermione looked at her in open shock. For all of their intimacy, the woman hadn’t shared that little tidbit. She wondered if it might have been out of fear that things would progress too quickly.

“As nice as that is, Ms. Black. I am still not clear on why my best friend was in your possession.”

“Did Kingsley not explain?” the older witch asked with genuine concern.

“We were all there when your patronus arrived. Harry had just killed Voldemort. We were so worried about where you were,” she added turning to Hermione. “And that message did not tell us much. What the hell happened?”

The blonde started to open her mouth, but Hermione beat her to it.

“I am sorry Gin. I didn’t mean to worry you. I had a flashback when we were dueling Bellatrix and lost all control. I landed rather hard at Malfoy Manor. Narcissa healed me.”

“Why there?” the redhead asked hotly.

“I… I don’t want to talk about it right now,” Hermione said looking toward the blonde. The woman nodded almost imperceptibly, confirming that she didn’t have to share if she wasn’t comfortable.

The redhead silently watched the interaction between the two, realizing that something had shifted. “You are a part of the Order then,” she said looking at the older witch.

“I am,” Narcissa responded stiffly.

“Well I didn’t see that coming. And don’t think that I haven’t noticed you, Draco. I just hadn’t gotten to you yet.”

“We made our decisions, Miss Weasley. I should have chosen earlier, but in the end I believe I got it right.”

“You did. And it will take us time not to see your husbands actions when we look at you. But thank you.” The redhead stepped into her personal space and enveloped her in a trademark Weasley hug. “You saved my boyfriend and my bestfriend within the same 24 hours. I will never be able to repay you for that.”

“I… Thank you, Miss Weasley.”

“Cut out the formalities. We are going to see the worst of each other. My friends call me Ginny. And as for you blondie,” she said clearly speaking to Draco who stood behind his mother fidgeting. “It's good to see you looking slightly less morose. Now I did hear a bit yesterday about the secrets you have been keeping. It will take a bit of adjustment to see you as anything other than a death eater, but I will genuinely try.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Come,” the redhead continued. “You lot should come to the Great Hall. There is some business you need to attend to.” She gently pulled Hermione’s arm to propel her forward and force her to walk at her side. The brunette glanced backwards briefly. She caught a slightly jealous look on the blonde witch’s face before she turned back around. She was astounded that the woman genuinely seemed to want her.

“Are you really ok, ‘Mione,” Ginny whispered to her friend.

“As ok as any of us are. I broke my leg badly yesterday. Narcissa healed it, but I am still sore. I am so sorry I disappeared in the middle of that duel. I’ve never been so scared.”

The redhead raised a hand in dismissive understanding. “Don’t worry. My mum stepped in. It didn’t last long after that. Harry put an end to it.”

“Was everything ok last night?”

“Yea. Most of us stayed in the dormitories that weren’t completely destroyed. The Floo network isn’t working here still, so everyone needed to sleep so that they could apparate safely today. And you were ok with them?”

“I was very well cared for. It was surprising, but not unpleasant.”

They crossed into the Great Hall. The ghosts were lingering again, walking through the rows of the recently deceased. Hermione was struck with the sadness as though she walked into a brick wall. She couldn’t make her feet move. Ginny had released her and was moving with purpose to the far side of the room. A hand touched softly at the base of her spine gently urging her forward. She didn’t need to look behind her to know that the youngest Black sister was once again lending her support. There was a tug at the corner of her lips, it was unexpectedly pleasant to be treated with such consideration. Months on the run with two clueless teenage boys didn’t not provide such moments. Hermione moved forward under her own power, attempting to push away the suffocating feelings. When they reached the far side of the room, the Weasley matriarch gathered her in a tight embrace.

“I am so sorry about Fred.”

“I know, dear. As am I. There are no words for such a thing. Mr. Weasley and I are going now to deal with his arrangements.” Molly turned to look at Narcissa. She appraised her before she spoke. “Your family is over there,” she said pointing across the room. “I imagine they would appreciate your presence.”

This time it was Narcissa who looked decidedly uncomfortable as though she couldn’t quite decide what to do with herself. She was clearly uncomfortable watching someone else’s grief, but facing her own seemed equally unappealing. She took Draco’s arm when he offered it, but was thoroughly surprised when Hermione gently touched her other arm. She allowed the teenagers to lead her to where they had been pointed. As they approached, she watched a familiar curly head from behind. The sight caused her to gasp. As the woman turned, Narcissa froze. It had been so many years. The blonde struggled to process that Hermione left her side.

“Oh god, Andy,” Hermione said rushing into her friend’s arms. She hugged the witch tightly. When they separated, she gently wiped at the tears running down the witch’s face.

“Tonks, Remus, and my sister,” the middle Black sister whispered.

Hermione twitched at the last statement, but continued to comfort the crying woman. “I am so sorry, Andy.” The curly hair tickled her face as the witch cried against her shoulder. She looked up to see a stunned Narcissa. It was clear that the witch was faltering with which emotion would win out.

The blonde was devastated at the death of her sister and the niece she never knew. She was shocked and more than a little jealous at the closeness between Andromeda and Hermione. And she was torn between wanting to grieve for Bella and being glad she was gone. When the young witch beckoned her forward she complied. Smoothly she walked up and gathered a sister she hadn’t seen in decades into her arms. Her heart skipped a beat when Andromeda grasped her tightly and whispered her name. Tears she didn’t know she was holding in streamed down her face. There had been so much lost.

When she opened her eyes, she noted that Hermione had extracted herself from the sisters’ embrace and was standing stoically with a hand on Draco’s shoulder. He too was crying, but attempting not to show it.

“Is it really finally over?” Andromeda asked quietly.

“It is,” her baby sister replied, lovingly running her hands through her curls. “I am sorry it took me so long to take the stand you did as a teenager.”

“I am just glad that I didn’t lose two sisters again yesterday. I am glad you are here."

"As am I. And I understand that I... We won't be forgiven over night. Not even by you. But I do want to help through this hard time if you will let me."

"The years have changed you, Narcissa. And yet not. I see more of my baby sister now than I did in all the years at Hogwarts. It will take time to get to know one another again, but I will not lose more family over this."

"Thank you. Draco, I would like to introduce you to my sister, Andromeda."

The young man stepped tentatively towards her looking rather nervous.

“I know I resemble her, Draco. But I assure you that we are very different people.”

“Of course, Aunt Andromeda,” he answered automatically.

“Call me Andy. We can work on the aunt bit later once we know each other, yes?”

He nodded silently, but did agree to her terms.

Seeing that the broken family seemed to be finding their way, Hermione turned to walk away and give them a moment of privacy.

“Hermione Granger, I know you are not trying to sneak away,” Andromeda said pointedly.

The young witch stopped moving and turned slowly. “I just thought your family might need a bit of privacy. That's all.”

“Come here, please.” The older witch waited until the young woman was within reach before she began speaking again. She took the pretty face between her hands. “Since when are you not considered a part of my family?”

The older witch watched as the hazel eyes filled with water. In all the years she knew the young Gryffindor, she had never seen her reduced to tears. “Oh Hermione,” she whispered at a loss with what to do with the normally stoic woman.

At the first sight of the young witch getting emotional, the blonde was in motion. She took possession of the crying girl from her confused sister. Without thinking of who might be watching, she cooed quietly, holding the young woman tightly. “Shh, sweetheart. You are not alone. As my sister said, you have a place in her family and so you have a place in mine.”

At that statement, she felt the young woman relax a little and the meltdown seemed to stop. “It's ok. This is a hard day for everyone. I think we ought to say a few short goodbyes. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” she whispered into soft blonde hair.

Andromeda watched the exchange between the two witches. Though she hadn’t been close to the blonde for years, such displays of emotions were incredibly rare. She wouldn’t ask just yet, but whatever it was there was little doubt that it was genuine.

Narcissa separated partially from Hermione to speak to her sister. “I would like to meet my niece.”

The middle black sister ushered the small group to a small cluster of makeshift stretchers. Magically she rolled back two sheets. The two pale figures held hands even in death. “Her name was Nymphadora, though she insisted on going by Tonks. And Remus was her husband. I can honestly say that they died as they lived, together and with love. They left behind a toddler, Teddy.”

“I have a great nephew?”

“You do. He is staying with a neighbor who happens to be a squib. I never fancied being a mother again at my age.”

“I would like to meet him,” the wizard spoke for the first time in several minutes.

“That would be nice,” Andromeda said smiling sadly. “I want him to know his family. You are welcome any time.”

“Thank you, Andy.”

Hermione finished calming, watching the tentative exchange. Mrs. Tonks continued to be one of the most amazing people she had ever met. She’d been drawn in similarly by the older witch when Tonks shared that her parents had been killed. Andy never asked her to be sad or talk about it, she had simply been a strong solid presence. She was open, loving and honest. And she had just given Narcissa and Draco an opportunity to have another ally. The arm around her shook slightly. She turned to look into the blue eyes. It was clear that the woman was miles away. Gently the young witch grasped the fingers that rested on her shoulder.

“Andy, I am so sorry,” the blonde witch said, her voice breaking half way through the statement.

“I know, baby sister. There is one more you need to see.”

With another flick of her wand, two of the bodies were covered and a third revealed. Hermione started to back away. The arm around her tightened slightly and the scent of the blonde floated over her.

“You are safe. She is gone,” Narcissa said quietly.

“Yes, Bella is gone for good this time,” Andromeda said in a voice devoid of emotion.

“She looks so peaceful, so like the young woman she was before all of this. So unlike the monster she became,” the blonde replied.

“I don’t think I will ever stop missing her. Who she was before she met Tom. Even after all these years, sometimes I still think she will come walking through the door chattering about a new spell she learned.”

“I know. I thought when she returned that I might be able to dig that person out of the shell of insanity. But she wasn’t there. The only thing left was the insanity.”

“I would have tried to do the same, Cissy. You couldn’t have known.”

“But I should have stopped her,” the blonde said bitterly.

“You forget, I knew our sister. You couldn’t have even if you wanted to. You made the right decision. You ended the war. Confronting her wouldn’t have done any good. She would have killed you, then perhaps the war would have gone the other way.”

“She is right, you know,” Hermione finally added. “You changed everything.”

Without another word, the final sheet was returned to its original position.

“I am going to bury Nymph and Remus in Godrick’s Hallow with the Potters. It is what they would have wanted.”

“We should take Bella to the Black crypt. It is the only place that won’t be able to reject her presence.”

“Mum, I can make the arrangements. I need something to do.”

“Thank you, Draco. That is very generous. No service, just have her interred. Today if possible.”

“Right,” he said nodding and walking away with purpose.

“I should go make arrangements too,” Andy interjected. “Would you all like to come for dinner on Saturday? You too, Hermione.”

“We would be delighted. Can we bring anything?” Narcissa released her hold on Hermione in order to hug Andromeda and then for Andromeda to hug the young witch before she left.

“Pick a wine, Cissy. You’ve always had amazing taste. Ok, I will see you all then.”

The two witches stood in silence next to one another staring at the thin cloth that covered the body of a woman who changed their lives beyond measure.

“Madame Black, may I have a word,” Minerva asked in her best authoritarian voice.

“Yes, of course.” She looked at Hermione with concern. It was clear that the blonde witch was debating if it was safe to leave the young witch alone after the earlier outburst.

“Miss Granger can stay if you wish, Narcissa. It will only take a moment of your time.”

“Very well then. What can I do for you, Head Mistress?”

“I was hoping that perhaps you have kept up your skills as a healer. There are more injuries than Poppy can care for in the infirmary and she desperately needs to get some sleep. I was wondering if you couldn’t watch over the patients today so that she can get a bit of rest.”

“I have and I would be happy to.”

“Take Miss Granger with you. It isn’t a field she has considered enough. She will be a decent enough assistant.” The elderly witch smiled at two of her favorite students briefly before walking off to instruct others.


	4. Chapter 4

“How is your leg feeling?” Narcissa asked staring at the back McGonagall's head.

“Fine.”

The blonde turned her head slowly until she could see the girls face. Hermione immediately tried to look away. Soft fingers grasped her chin firmly forcing eye contact.

“Do not presume that you can lie to me, Hermione. Let’s try this again. How is your leg?”

“It is really sore. But not as bad as yesterday.”

“We best get you off of it for a while,” the older witch responded without releasing her.

“And I’m sorry,” Hermione whispered, closing her eyes to attempt to fight off tears again. “I am not accustomed to the question being genuine. I will not pretend to be alright when I am not.”

Narcissa softened her grip until it was nothing more than a caress. “I am not cross with you, dear. I simply want us to have open communication. I want you to trust me enough to share with me how you really feel.”

The young witch flushed a bright red. Having the sudden object of her affection reciprocate unexpectedly had her continually off guard. The blonde’s gentle attentions were incredibly touching, yet left her wanting more. It had been so long since someone had so genuinely wanted her.

“I’m overwhelmed,” she said finally. “I can’t believe there will be peace. I can’t believe so many are dead. I don’t know what I am going to do with myself now.”

“I could not have summed it up better myself. All we can do is take it one day at a time,” the blonde said with their lips nearly touching. She drew back slowly. “Let's go to the hospital wing. I think I can find you more than enough things to do while sitting.”

Narcissa stepped next to the painful side of Hermione’s body. She lifted an arm over her shoulder, forcing the young witch to put some of her weight on her. She was pleased when a slender hip pressed snuggly against her own. When fingers drug lightly against the back of her neck before settling on her shoulder, she just barely suppressed a whimper.

“I presume you still know your way after all of this time,” Hermione said smirking.

“Miss Granger,” the blonde said in mock offense. “I may be a few years your senior, but I assure you that I still have all of my facilities in tact. You might even find the years have lent me a certain level of experience.”

The last sentence was delivered practically as a purr, which sent a shiver down the length of Hermione’s spine. Not wanting to be outdone, she said in a husky voice that sounded foreign to her own ears, “I look forward to exploiting your experience.”

“Well well, little witch. Lovely.”

“I had hoped you would find me your equal,” the young witch said coyly.

“It seems as though you may well be, if not my better. Either way I will enjoy finding out.”

Hermione held back her witty reply to enjoy the moment. She could practically feel the woman beside her pulsing with anxiety at her silence. “It's been a long time since I felt as though I was conversing with an intellectual. Your use of language is beautiful.”

“And there is no doubt in my mind why they call you the brightest witch of your age. Aside from wiping the floor with my son every year, it would be impossible to miss how naturally gifted you are.”

“It has been even longer since anyone has seen me as any more than the brains of the trio. Not that Harry and Ron don’t love me. They absolutely do, but it was borne out of necessity. I don’t know that they would have ever chosen to be my friend if there had not been such dire need for my research skills and magical knowledge.”

“It truly would have been their loss, not to mention all of ours.”

"I am sure someone else would have taken my place. I am not all that special."

"Your modesty not withstanding you absolutely are. And fortunately there is no undoing the past. We can only move forward."

"Have you always been such a beacon of hope, Narcissa?"

The blonde let out a genuine laugh.

"No. It has been a very long time since I have had hope. But my actions of late have provided me with opportunities that I could only dream of. I am free from the tyranny of my marriage. I've reunited with my sister. My son is safe and has the chance at an honest good life. Not to mention one of the most interesting and beautiful young witches has fallen quite literally into my life and seems to be in no great hurry to leave. It seems to me that I have every right to be a beacon of hope."

“I can’t even begin to tell you how good hope looks on you,” Hermione said quietly.

“I gather that you’ve been spending time assessing my appearance?”

The young witch felt her face go bright red again, but wasn’t quite ready to concede the verbal sparring match. “Would you prefer my eyes were elsewhere?” she asked boldly. She knew she stuck a chord when the arm around her tightened sharply.

“There are many things at which I am adept, however sharing what I desire is not among them.” The statement was said in little more than a growl causing Hermione’s stomach to clench pleasurably. “I do not compete for attention,” the blonde continued. “Nor will I ever share what is mine.”

“Merlin,” Hermione breathed out. “It seems impossible that you only become more attractive the more I am around you.”

The older witch smirked. “I take it my…. possessiveness does not bother you?”

“I suppose that would depend on your definition of bother.”

Narcissa hummed in response. “I am finding it a pleasant challenge to be near you and not exert control.”

The brunette stopped walking abruptly, causing the other woman to spin and face her questioningly. Hermione grasped the witch’s robe near the neckline and pushed her against the nearest wall. With a firm determination she kissed the taller witch passionately. The kiss was melt worthy and the young witch struggled to keep her feet when arms encircled her waist holding her fast. She broke the kiss for need of breath. In that moment when her defences were down, Narcissa reversed their positions. As she pressed Hermione’s back against the cold stone she lifted her legs, wrapping them around her waist. She kissed the young witch soundly, taking possession of her mouth. After a lingering moment, she eased back slowly. Hermione sighed contentedly as they parted.

“Did you feel the need to make a point, little lion?”

“Apparently I did. But I am not sure that it quite worked out the way I planned.”

Gently, Narcissa put the girl back on her feet. “But did it work out the way you’d hoped?”

Hermione reached out to tuck a blonde hair behind a pretty ear. She leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss into the corner of her mouth. “I think it could have gone much worse.”

“As much as I would like to tarry here,” the blond said once again taking her place on the weakened side of the gryffindor’s body, “we are needed in the hospital.” She glanced over quickly enough to catch the crestfallen look on the young woman’s face. She lightly squeezed the rib cage. “I promise that I will set aside time for you and you alone very soon.”

“I intend to hold you to that.”

“I have no doubt about that, Hermione. You have more than proven your tenacity already.”

The young witch smiled and leaned comfortably into the embrace. They moved in companionable silence until they reached the hospital. The witches paused in the doorway of the room. The usually neat space was crowded with patients lying and sitting on all available surfaces. Hermione was the first to come back to herself gently squeezing the blonde’s shoulder in reassurance.

“Hermione Granger! What have you done to yourself and why did you not come to me immediately?”

“I’m alright, Madame Pomfrey,” the young witch offered weakly.

“She broke her leg badly yesterday,” the blonde interjected. “I mended it. She is still sore, but I believe my work was successful. Would you like to check?”

“The elder witch smiled slightly. “I’ve always enjoyed checking your work, Narcissa.” The blonde had long been one of her favorite students. She had been overjoyed at the news that the woman had landed on the right side of the war before the end.

The young witch watched perplexedly at the interaction between the two women.

“Don’t look so confused, Miss Granger. There were favorite students long before you walked through the castle gates. And Narcissa was certainly among the brightest.” The healer turned back to her protege. “Have you kept your skills up?”

“I have. Between having a son and having to play host to an army, I’ve had plenty of practice with battlefield wounds.”

“That sounds suspiciously like Minerva sent you to temporarily relieve me,” the healer answered an unasked question.

“That is precisely what she did.”

“Bless her. I still want to look at that leg. Set her up on my desk.”

Narcissa did as she was asked, moving her paramour reverently as though the witch might break. She watched anxiously as her mentor raised her wand evaluating the appendage.

“You did a remarkable job. While I can still see the complexity of the break, the healing is impeccable. Hermione, you are quite fortunate to have been with Narcissa. I daresay that I would not have been able to do a better job myself.”

“I was unbelievably lucky,” Hermione said not moving her eyes from the blonde. To her great satisfaction, the woman in question flushed red.

“Miss Granger, I am certain that the Headmistress made all sorts of promises about the potential for you to learn today, but based on what I have just seen I insist that you sit here for a few hours.”

The young witch started to open her mouth to object, but was cut off.

“You can help by sitting here. Dressings need to be cut and shaped appropriately. The materials and list of things needed are behind you. Sit here at my desk and get to work. Narcissa will need them in a little less than an hour.”

“Yes, Madame Pomfrey,” the young witch answered automatically, shifting easily back into the role of well behaved student. She moved carefully into the chair and drew her wand to begin her work. She looked briefly at the woman she rather wished she was still kissing as the two witches moved away. The impulsive show of affection, she realized would never have occurred before she and the boys lived on the run. Those months and what they had faced changed them all. In particular she had become the kind of woman who determined her own destiny, one who could jump without fear. Not to mention that she had become an expert at the mental game of one upping companions. Narcissa leveled a challenge and the young witch had no desire to back down. Even now she felt nothing but pride, and perhaps a bit of arousal, at her actions.

She paused in her work to gaze across the room. Madame Pomfrey had apparently finished the debrief and was leaving the wing. Narcissa was wrapping the healer’s apron around herself. The young witch couldn’t help but look at how the strings pulled taut accentuated the woman’s curves. She continued watching openingly as the woman moved between the patients. She was astounded at the blonde’s bedside manner. She was soothing, but professional. The young witch enjoyed watching the body language of the youngest Black sister. This was Hermione’s first opportunity to spend prolonged time watching her interact with others. The older witch was nothing like the caricature her reputation painted. The Gryffindor found the guarded kindness with which she addressed the injured to be incredibly attractive.

The young witch shook her head at her own sentimentality and turned back to the task at hand. It had been so long since someone asked her to do a simple magical task. It was surprisingly pleasant to take on a repetitive non-violent task. Making bandages proved to be one of the most soothing things she’d done in recent memory. Hermione became so wrapped up in the rhythm of her actions that she didn’t notice the blue eyes focused on her as she worked. 

“Your wand work is completely mesmerizing. No wonder Minerva has taken you under her wing.”

The young witch looked up in surprise. She hadn’t been paying even the slightest attention to how she had been working.

“Do you find the bandages to be adequate?” she asked entirely unsure of how she had done.

“Your work is perfectly sufficient. Would you like to assist me in dressing wounds?”

Hermione looked at her silently, debating how to respond.

“Don’t fret, now. I won’t be getting you in trouble with Madam Pomphrey.” The blonde performed a silent accio summoning a set of crutches into her hands. “Use these and follow me. No weight on the leg or you will have to answer to me.”

“Are you trying to tempt me, Narcissa?” she whispered as quietly as she could while still being heard.

“I would highly recommend that you be a good witch. I have never been one to make empty threats.” The blue eyes appraised her once more before Narcissa turned and walked with purpose, levitating a stack of bandaged in front of her. Hermione gingerly got up to follow her, attempting to close her still gaping mouth. The blonde was incredibly witty and flirtatious. She couldn’t imagine enjoying conversation more.

As they reached the first bed, the healer’s body language changed entirely to cool professionalism. She spoke to the injured in quiet soothing tones explaining the process she was executing. Hermione watched with rapt attention as the dressing was changed. Though her own wand was tucked safely in the waist of her pants, she subtly moved her wrist mimicking the motions of her companion. After finishing with the first patient they moved on to the next in the row. Immediately Narcissa launched into the same gentle discussion of procedure.

“Then Miss Granger,” she continued, “will assist me in changing this dressing. We must do so twice a day. It will help reduce the chance of a scar forming. Ok?”

The patient nodded and then looked at the ceiling. The beautiful blonde walked behind the young witch, snatching the wand out of her waist band. She swiftly switched the crutch for the wand, but left her own hand encasing Hermione’s. Narcissa allowed her lips to graze the soft skin of the witch’s ear as she instructed her through the proper movements to numb, cleanse, and redress the wound. The blonde witch reveled in the close proximity to the body that leaned back into her. As they finished she reluctantly stepped away from the brunette, separating their bodies.

“Do you feel comfortable doing that on your own? I won’t be far.”

“I think so,” Hermione said. She moved much more slowly on her own. She approached the bed of a young Hufflepuff student and her breath caught in her throat.

“Are you really Hermione Granger?” the young boy asked excitedly.

“I am,” she answered quietly.

“That's so cool. Are you going to be my healer? That would be the best. My mum would be so impressed.” The young man barely breathed between statements.

“You shouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place. I am sorry we brought the war back to Hogwarts,” she said sadly.

“Don’t apologize for what Voldemort did. You couldn’t control it,” he answered in a serious voice. “I was proud to fight, you know. For my friends and family. For Cedric. Hufflepuffs had a real stake in this. And what difference does age make? Have the three of you been dealing with this since you were first years?”

“You are right, I suppose. Hogwarts is lucky to have a student like you, Michael.”

“Luckier if you would come back. You are going to, aren’t you?”

The young witch was caught off guard by the question. She hadn’t really considered life after the war. Then again, she hadn’t been entirely convinced she would survive it.

“I don’t know yet, there are a few things that need to get put back together here,” she said evasively.

“She will be here for her final year,” the blonde said interrupting.

Hermione snapped her head around to look at the woman. She was met with a mischievously smug look.

“Oh good,” Michael said behind her. “I can learn so much from you. We can be best friends.”

“Any one would be quite lucky to be counted among Hermione’s friends,” Narcissa said smoothly.

Hermione remained mute. The blonde seemed to enjoy keeping her entirely off balance. She was at once complimented that her company was so desirous and confused at when exactly the woman had claimed her. Not that she was necessarily entirely opposed to the idea.

The smirk on Narcissa’s face only grew as she watched multiple conflicting emotions flash across the woman’s face. And when it settled on curiosity, the blonde couldn’t help but smile. She wanted more than she had wanted anything in a long time to be interesting to the brilliant witch.

“How are you feeling, Michael,” the healer said taking a step closer to Hermione allowing herself the pleasure of brushing against her.

“Good, Madame Black. Hermione is amazing. Do you think she will be a healer after Hogwarts?”

“I don’t know what she plans on doing after school, but I do know that she will be very successful.”

Michael nodded enthusiastically in agreement. Narcissa gently touched the young woman on the shoulder as she said, “It looks like you have done a wonderful job here. You will have to excuse us, Michael.” She beckoned Hermione a few steps away before she spoke again. “Finish your side of the beds and go sit at the desk. One of my elves will be arriving with lunch soon.”

The brunette nodded and went back to her work, though couldn’t quite shake the thoughts of the blonde from the forefront of her mind.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione finished her side of the room long before Narcissa did hers. The blonde cleverly shooed the girl towards only a handful of beds. With even just the short amount of time up, the young witch felt drained. The crutches made her arms ache, but she didn’t dare put weight on her leg a moment before the dazzling blonde gave her explicit permission. Collapsing back in Madame Pomfrey’s chair, Hermione watched the intriguingly fierce woman work. Each time blue eyes looked up to meet her gaze, the young witch looked away quickly as though it might prevent her from getting caught. She suspected she was not that lucky when she heard a quiet chuckle from across the room. The brunette found herself acutely aware that the blonde seemed to know exactly what sort of game they were now playing. She even knew that she might well be outmatched by the older witch. But nothing, not even a gorgeous woman like Narcissa Black, would make Hermione back down from such a challenge. If the witch wanted to flirt and play it coy, then the Gryffindor would meet her head on.

When at last the healer walked towards where the young witch was seated, Hermione allowed her gaze to slowly take in each and every curve of the witch’s body. When she reached the piercing blue eyes, she bit her bottom lip lightly between her teeth.

“Miss Granger,” Narcissa gritted out in a slightly deeper than normal voice.

Hermione enjoyed the slight blush she saw painting the pale cheeks. What promised to be a very interesting conversation was interrupted by a soft popping of an elf apparating. He handed them each a sandwich before disappearing.

“Eat, Hermione,” the blonde began sweetly. “But do not think that I will forget what was just interrupted.”

The two ate in companionable silence staring out over the calm ward. The peace was eerie, walking hand in hand with such massive destruction. Hermione struggled to swallow back tears. A warm hand immediately touched her upper thigh. Though it was a small amount of contact, it was enough for the young witch to feel grounded. Taking a deep breath, she gently covered the hand with her own and squeezed it lightly. She relished the small gasp at the contact. The young witch hid her smirk behind the sandwich she was eating. Grinning at the woman in this stage wouldn’t do. Hermione didn’t want to wake a sleeping dragon, perhaps just prod it a little. In spite of her diabolical, if not ambitious, planning a very large yawn crept out of her mouth.

“Your body seems to be betraying you, my little lion. As your healer I must insist that you rest for a little while.”

“There are no beds. I will be fine,” Hermione said pointing out the obvious.

The blonde tilted her head carefully, considering the woman in front of her. She smirked as though the young witch said something funny. She stood from the chair she was sitting in and with a few flicks of her wrist, the chair became a bed and Narcissa’s discarded robe luxurious bedding. It was almost embarrassingly fancy in comparison to the rest of the ward. The blonde helped her patient to her feet and toward the bed whispering hotly in her ear,

“You will find that I have certain standards. Now relax and try to take a nap. I will be here watching you and keeping you safe.” With practiced movements, she pulled the soft blanket up to cover the young woman and quietly kissed her forehead.

Hermione grumbled unintelligibly under her breath, but did nothing more to resist the exhaustion tugging her eyelids closed. She sighed into the soft bedding that smelled of the blonde witch and her magic. It smelled of lavender and rain and safety.

* * *

 

Hermione was awoken by two loud and extremely familiar voices. They were accompanied by the careless footfalls of two teenage boys.

“Hermione,” Harry whispered sadly.

“Hermione, wake up,” Ron echoed desperately.

The young woman slowly opened her eyes blinking away the sleepiness.

“Why are you in the hospital,” the redhead asked urgently.

“I’m fine, Ron. Honestly. I was injured yesterday, but it is not all that serious. I was helping to tend to the injured here, but I got tired so I laid down for a quick nap.”

“It's good to see you,” Harry said quietly. “We were worried when we were separated yesterday. But Kingsley had us all over England tracking down some of the surviving Death Eaters.”

“But where were you?” Ron asked, sitting on the side of the bed and immediately cupping the side of her face to lean in for a kiss.

Hermione was frozen in mostly horror. She loved the two young men as brothers. She knew that the redhead once had a crush on her, but she genuinely thought that he had moved on. She desperately wanted to dodge the chapped lips, as they were not the ones she wished to be kissing, but was unable to move for fear of injuring her friends.

A crystal clear and cold voice broke the almost intimacy of the moment. “She was in my care, Mister Weasley.”

Hermione looked up to see one of the most beautiful sights she could imagine. Narcissa, though composed, was seething and her blue eyes were on fire.

“And now I must ask,” the older witch continued in her professional tone, “what you are doing disturbing the patients in my care? Surely the two of you are in need of rest.”

Ronald’s mouth hung open in surprise. He’d rarely heard the woman speak in the past, and he didn’t count on her being quite so terrifying.

“We were about to get some rest ourselves,” Harry answered quietly. “They’ve repaired part of the Gryffindor dormitories enough for us to sleep. Come on, Ron. We should go.”

“No,” the redhead replied stubbornly. “I am not going until I understand what is going on here.”

“I would be happy to put it plainly,” Narcissa said sharply. She was cut off by a warm hand pressing gently into her forearm.

“Ron, please. I was with Narcissa, because she is caring for me. She healed me when I was injured. She has been teaching me how to heal others. And as for the rest,” she continued lowering her voice. “You know where I stand on this. You are a brother to me. I cannot love you in the way that you wish. I am sorry and I did not mean to hurt you further.”

His eyes grew big before squinting in anger. “But her. You look at her that way? Why? After all we have been through?”

“Ronald, please. I cannot give you answers to what I do not know.”

“Then reconsider. Come with us. We will care for you.”

If Hermione had turned around, she would have seen all of the muscles in Narcissa’s body tense and the look of fear and anger cross her face.

“I can’t do that, Ron. I am needed here. Just as you are needed there. And, I think a bit of space may be necessary right now.”

“You are entirely right,” Harry interjected. “We still have a lot to do, Ron. Divide and conquer is the best way to handle this. I am sure Madame Malfoy…”

“Black,” Narcissa interjected seamlessly.

“I am sure Madame Black will take good care of Hermione and that they are needed here.”

“Oi, Harry come on. You cannot be buying this. Clearly she had put Hermione under some sort of spell.”

“No. No I don’t think so. This isn't’ like your little run in with Romilda Vane. I know what that looks like. Hermione, it was good to see you in the flesh. Well done yesterday. It's over.”

“I can barely believe it,” she replied.

“Me either. Anyways, we should leave you to it.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you soon. Harry. Ronald.”

At the sight of their retreating forms, Hermione sunk back into the soft covers and pulled them over her head.

“You will have to work a bit harder than that to hide from me,” the blonde said in a low intimate voice.

“After that awkward mess, it was worth a try.”

Narcissa chuckled quietly. “Oh, I don’t know. It wasn’t all that bad.”

“Ron tried to kiss me. I thought you were going to hex him.”

“I considered it. It does take some adjustment to be a part of the ‘good’ side.”

Playfully, the young witch reached out to smack the closest arm.

“He certainly acted like he believed he had some sort of claim over you,” the blonde continued.

“He always has.” Hermione sighed deeply at the thought lowering the blankets to make her face visible once more. It certainly wasn’t the first time it had been brought up. There was a time when she wished that she returned his feelings, but it simply wasn’t who she was. “I promise you that it isn’t based on anything other than his dreams and hopes. I’ve never encouraged him. And as you can tell we’ve had that particular conversation before. I am trying not to get my hopes up that this will convince him.”

“I would be happy to personally re-educate him on the topic if there is a need,” the older witch said. Possessiveness was woven into every syllable. “I was surprised that you didn’t agree to go with them to your dormitory.”

Hermione turned her head towards the wall in embarrassment at her presumption. She so clearly didn’t want to leave the blonde’s side yet that she jumped to the conclusion the woman wanted the same, particularly after such a mind blowing kiss. “I…. we. We hadn’t discussed it… and I didn’t. Oh bollocks. Clearly I can go join them now. Sorry.”

The mattress depressed slightly as the blonde sat down. Gently she ran her hands through the messy curls, trying to soothe the girl without being overbearing. She watched silently until the body relaxed slightly. “As your healer, it would be best for you to stay in my care a bit longer so that I can ensure your leg has mended properly. As Madame Pomfrey said, it truly was a complex injury.”

“I can stay here,” Hermione said quickly, but any further conversation was muted by the two soft fingers covering her lips.

“You didn’t let me finish. That was my professional opinion. Personally, I have no great desire for us to be separated. If you wish to stay at the castle you may. I know that the Manor carries certain baggage for you and you may not want to return there. I don’t intend on owning it forever, but it is the home I have for now.”

“But surely,” the young witch began in a trembling voice, “you will too busy building a new life to bother with me.”

“I think that could be said of almost anyone in the magical community at this moment, darling. Everyone has suffered a great loss due to this war. We are all going to have to redefine what life will be like now. But one of the lessons we must not forget is that we must grab happiness wherever we can find it.”

Hermione reached out and laced her fingers through her companions holding them firmly. “I don’t want to stay here. Not with it in this state, but I don’t have a home any more. Not since my parents….” Her voice once again trailed off.

“Then it is settled. Come back with me. I have everything we will need, including clothes you can wear. I am presuming most of your belongings have been scattered.”

The young witch nodded tears welling up in her eyes again. Soft fingertips cleaned them off of her face as they fell.

“We will work on that, dear one. You wear my clothes well, but we will go shopping for anything you need. And I will help you search for any other keepsakes that have gone missing. Now, are you sure you don’t mind starting this new phase in your life with a much older woman?”

“I was too preoccupied thinking about the way your hand feels in mine and the impact of your kiss to even consider that.”

“Others will.”

The young witch looked warily at the beautiful woman. “For the last six years I’ve been gossiped about on the national stage, and I don’t really imagine that changing. People have always had something negative to say about anyone that I choose to spend time with. One thing I have learned is that I should choose my friends and lovers based on what I want, because someone will always disagree.”

“And you choose this,” the blonde said somewhat incredulously.

“I do. I can’t put into words exactly why, but I feel compelled to figure out what this is between us. Not to mention that I find you completely irresistible. Any time you are near me, all I can focus on is getting even closer.”

Narcissa smirked flirtatiously. “I like this idea you have of getting closer. I can think of any number of delicious ways to do so.”

“You are devious saying such things when I can do nothing about it.”

“Only a few more hours, my little lion. Then perhaps I will get to see if you have as much of a roar as you suggest.”


	6. Chapter 6

The last handful of hours were the longest that the young witch had ever experienced. She never would have guessed that waiting to have the undivided attention of Draco Malfoy's mother would be more tortuous than the years of war. After the exit of the two wizards, the blonde had been insistent that she continue to rest. When Hermione naturally tried to resist the order, Narcissa resorted to threatening to withhold kisses and even more desirable activities. While the brunette was no Slytherin, she certainly knew when guarding her own interests was essential. And she had to know what it was about the blonde that drew her in and pushed her to the brink of constant distraction.

There was an underlying warmth and comfort in the presence of the woman that stirred her soul. Behind the cool demeanor, Narcissa was possessive and protective. She couldn't imagine a scenario in which she would have allowed anyone else on earth to handle her the way the blonde had over the last 24 hours. Hermione had so perfected the ability to keep the world at arm’s length. She relied on the boys in a distant way, but she never really let them in. After all she was often protecting them in the end. To keep them safe, to keep them from harm. With the erasing of her parent’s memories, subconsciously she cast aside the role of being cared for. And then with their subsequent deaths, Hermione couldn’t bear to risk losing anyone who she cared for on such a level.

And yet, the beautiful woman walking peacefully through the rows of the wounded cared for her as though it had been going on for years and was the most natural thing in the world. But there was more to the connection than the young witch could put her finger on at the moment. Every time they were near, Hermione felt her magic jump in the very core of her being. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was a one sided experience or if perhaps the blonde felt a fraction of the pull she did. Then of course, there was the matter of the form of Narcissa’s patronus. When the otter sprouted out of the witch’s wand, the older witch incorrectly assumed that Hermione thought her so soulless that she could not produce the spell. In reality seeing the form of her own patronus summoned took Hermione’s breath away. All she could think about was Snape and Lily Potter. Complimentary or matching patronuses seemed to indicate a deeper level of connection. She wished her companion was slightly less stubborn about letting her move about the castle. She would like nothing more than to retreat to the library to try and decipher the meaning of her connection to the blonde.

Instead, she settled for watching the graceful movements through half opened eyes. As much as she wished to be elsewhere, Narcissa was right that she felt unbelievably tired. She closed her eyes and listened to the steady click of the blonde’s heels on the stone floor.

* * *

 

The brunette was drug back to consciousness by a gentle voice and the feather light brushing of fingers along her jaw.

“There you are,” Narcissa drawled sweetly. “We are free to return home. Poppy is rested and ready to take her ward back. Take a few moments to wake up while I re-check your leg. You should be able to move carefully without crutches.”

Hermione did as suggested, stretching her arms above her head while waiting for the exam of her leg to begin. Cool fingertips brushed a patch of warm skin on her stomach exposed by her shirt riding up.

“You are being quite distracting, Miss Granger,” the blonde hissed. “How am I supposed to be able to focus when you are doing that?”

“I am just following instructions. Laying here waiting for you to examine me,” Hermione answered coyly. She enjoyed the emotions flying across the beautiful woman’s face. Winding Narcissa up could easily become one of her favorite activities.

“We are leaving… now,” Narcissa practically growled. In spite of the intensity in her tone, she gingerly helped the young woman to her feet.

“Do I still need these?” the young witch said gesturing to the crutches.

“For now. You made it impossible for me to focus, so the exam will have to take place in a more private setting.”

Hermione immediately pouted. She was tired of the limited mobility.

“Oh none of that. You brought this on yourself,” the blonde said firmly. “I have every intention of examining you thoroughly.”

With a sigh, the young witch gathered herself and obediently followed Narcissa out of the ward. Just outside of the door, the blonde stood with her arm out in a silent command. Hermione considered her options, part of her wanted to explore how much power she could exert over the beautiful woman. A raised eyebrow silenced her. She moved her body close to the blonde, slipping her arm around her waist. A silent spell from the older witch moved the crutches against a wall causing the young woman to rest more fully against her. The two disappeared in the blink of an eye.

When Hermione opened her eyes, she was standing again in Narcissa’s bedroom. She was grateful to be spared the embarrassment of seeing anyone else, particularly Draco. The last day had been simply more than enough on her nerves. The only things she needed were dinner and the blonde standing next to her.

“You will now submit to an examination, Hermione,” the blonde whispered in her ear.

The young witch didn’t even attempt to suppress the shudder, it just felt too good. She allowed the blonde to move her onto the bed. She settled in and closed her eyes, anticipating the gentle touches of her healer.

Narcissa started with the boots, which she unlaced painfully slowly and gently worked them down her calves. Next she moved to the button on the young witch’s pants. As her fingers brushed the firm stomach, she was treated to a soft moan. She looked up into Hermione’s eyes and could hardly breathe for the lust she found. She moved her eyes back to the pants and worked them down the smooth hips and legs. She tried to ignore the lacy black underwear she unwisely dressed the young woman in this morning. It was incredibly distracting. She drew her wand and attempted to steady her breathing.

“Well, am I going to live?” the brunette asked after a few tense moments.

“Oh, I suppose you will. From what I can see, you have a very talented healer. The bones appear to have healed very well. How is the pain?”

“I don’t fancy running a marathon, but I am fairly comfortable. Since I woke up again it's been alright.”

“Bend it for me,” the blonde commanded.

“Are you attempting to ascertain my flexibility?”

“Consider this to be a preliminary evaluation, Hermione. I will make sure to more thoroughly check in a few moments.”

Hermione did as she was asked. The soreness and stiffness from the morning had receded.

“Good. In that case, I release you to resume normal activity.”

“And what,” Hermione began, “about extraordinary activity?”

“Oh, little lion. I don’t think that you have even the slightest clue whom you are playing with.”

The young witch sat up and pulled the blonde to her by the lapels much like she had earlier in the day. She stopped just before their lips touched. “I think you will find that I know exactly who I am playing with. The most beautiful captivating woman I have ever seen.”

The blonde froze. She’d never been treated with such softness nor been spoken about so kindly. Hermione pulled her yet closer so that her lips were aligned with her ear. Gently she drew the lobe into her mouth, scraping it lightly with her teeth.

“I want you, Narcissa. I don’t want to be prudent. I don’t want to consider all of the consequences or what might happen tomorrow. I want to feel every bit of your skin. I want you sweaty and slick. I want all of you.”

Narcissa groaned loudly and captured Hermione’s lips in a deep probing kiss. She reveled in the girl melting at her touch.

“I can give you what you want, Hermione. But you know that, don’t you darling?”

The young witch whimpered in response. “Please, Narcissa. Please.” She moved to start undressing the blonde, but struggled with the ties of the formal dress. She looked up into blue eyes in apology and embarrassment. She’d never seen a dress like this up so close. The beautiful woman smirked and magically made their outer clothes disappear.

“It looked like you might have needed a little help. Honestly, Hermione, you do remember you are a witch, right?”

The brunette smiled wickedly, leaning up to capture an already hard nipple between her teeth. Instinctively Narcissa’s head dropped back and her mouth opened in a breathy moan.

“You will simply have to accept,” the young witch said running her hands over newly bared skin, “that I will always enjoy doing some things the Muggle way.”

“Like what?” the blonde gasped out still reeling from the feeling of the other woman’s mouth.

“Hmmm. Like this,” Hermione whispered, palming both breasts roughly before centering on sensitive nipples. “I wouldn’t want to rush this. No magical shortcuts. Just feeling each and every part of you.”

“Perhaps I will have to introduce you to the advantages of magic during sex at another time.”

“Must you always be so bloody sensual?” the young witch asked, dragging her nails down the pale back.

“And you would prefer me not to be?” Narcissa asked, pushing the girl back into the bed and climbing on top of her.

Hermione groaned at the new position. She reached her hands up, running them through golden locks. She sat up just enough to be able to press a gentle kiss to the red lips. “I would never prefer you to be anything aside from what you are, Narcissa. You are quite lovely.”

The blonde smiled, but said nothing in response. She shifted so that she could slide one of her legs between the young witch’s. Hips immediately pressed up towards her. She moaned at how wet her thigh was from just a single touch. The witch below her was beyond ready for her. She slipped her hands behind the witch to release a lacy bra and tossed it across the room.

Hermione could no longer control her hips. As nimble fingers took in the expanse of her chest, she pressed her center up looking for any amount of friction. She was on the verge of begging when the blonde witch possessed her lips in an oxygen stealing kiss. When it ended, she opened her eyes to find twinkling blue eyes staring at her with open adoration.

“Give yourself to me, Hermione,” she demanded in a cool tone, running her fingers lightly over the very damp silk between the young woman’s legs.

“Oh fuck, Narcissa. I am yours. Please. I’ll do anything.”

The blonde touched the silk momentarily before making it vanish. She gently touched the soft wetness enjoying each and every shudder it created. She slide a single finger inside the witch causing the woman’s hips to buck wildly. She set a slow but steady pace, adding another digit causing Hermione’s eyes to fly open.

“That's it, darling,” the blonde purred. “I want you to keep your eyes open. I want to see you as you come undone.” She pressed her thumb in gentle circles on the young witch’s clit. The muscles around her fingers tightened and then released in pulsing waves. The brunette stared up at her far longer than she had anticipated she would be able to. As she felt the girl relax, she slowly removed her fingers licking them clean.

Without saying a word, Hermione opened her arms indicating that the beautiful witch hovering above her should lay down. As Narcissa settled in her arms, the young witch let out a satisfied sigh. She kissed the blonde temple. “I am going to need just a moment, but then it is most certainly my turn.”


End file.
